


The Way Out Of The Dark

by nuritacobarrubias



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bunker Feels, F/M, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuritacobarrubias/pseuds/nuritacobarrubias
Summary: Time is a great healer.





	The Way Out Of The Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneDoh7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDoh7/gifts).



> A hundred kudos to JaneDoh7 for being my beta for 11 years and introducing me to this show, already knowing I would become trash for these two characters. Without her, not a single paragraph would make sense.
> 
> Part of the Kabby kink meme challenge 2018. Original link here:  
> https://kabbykinkmeme.livejournal.com/767.html?thread=73471#t73471  
> Go check all the fantastic posts and participate.

_It had been so long._

He is panting hard, trying laboriously to hold on, to overcome the acute need to naturally follow the current within him and fall inside her into a long-time-coming orgasm. The confines between inhalation and exhalation becoming nonexistent. The enticing friction evolving, unbearable to withstand. His heart working as relentlessly as his hips against hers, a rhythm so intense he can’t hear anything except the deafening pounding in his ears. It really had been so long. So long without _Abby_ , without her scent. The thought barely materializes as he buries his nose against her neck to commit it to memory. He can’t help himself; even though he knows that tasting her - and her usual response to that - will catapult him into sensory overload, gently biting her nape in contained ecstasy. He feels greedy, now that he is finally able to fuck her with healed wrists. He is compelled to let his hands meander and feel everything they can reach, the inviting textures still novel to his discovering digits. His vision is blurred so he opts for closing his eyes to focus on his ultimate goal right now: to hold back, strain his muscles and concentrate long enough to notice the conspicuous signs that reveal that she’s on the brink too.

  
_It had been too long._

  
They only had nine days and nights together in Polis, but in spite of the delicate circumstances, they made the most of them. Once they got over the intrinsic diffidence and hesitant ventures that come along with a coveted new lover, something clicked between them in bed; for the distinct tension that had tinged all their interactions since the very beginning, refined into utter magnetic voltage. Just when they were relishing themselves and luxuriating in the congruent intimacy and the symbiosis of their bodies, the pressing of, yet again, another incoming apocalypse got in between them, forcing time, distance and spiritual-altering decisions to overtake.

  
Her demanding nightblood experiments.

  
His struggle to keep diplomacy over the clans.

  
Her anxiety over Raven’s seizings and panic for her daughter’s safety.

  
His frustration over Harper’s, Bellamy’s and Octavia’s battles.

  
Her probable brain disease.

  
His inability to fix her.

  
Her first killing.

  
His second culling.

  
_It had been far too long._

  
Maybe that's why she berates herself she should be more immersed, no thinking at all and enjoying the moment. Everything is as it should be: the pace, the angle, the pressure, _Marcus_. She doesn't understand what's happening - or better yet - what's not happening. She can feel his strained, burning breath moisten her throat’s skin, the constant flexing and stretching of his body above her, around her, _inside_ her. Maybe the main problem is that sense of over-awareness she's never had during sex before. Or maybe the perception that he's starting to realize something's awry - she should be trembling with pleasure by now.

  
She starts to panic, she isn't ready to confront his questioning gaze, to face all her recent tribulations and have them reflected in his worried, kind eyes. She had been the one initiating sex, fundamentally because she was tired of their estrangement. It was the easiest and fastest way to endear a reconciliation without having to deal with everything that was going on within _her_ , between _them_. If he had chosen she was to live, she had to submit to the fact that she couldn't do it without him. At least not anymore. She was so fucking exhausted. And it had been so long. That's why she briefly considers faking it.

  
Even though they can still count the number of times they’ve done this, he's already assimilated there's something quite unique in the way she approaches climax. It all starts with an undeliberated, unbridled oscillating movement of her pelvis, seeking out more of the mind-bending friction he provides; merging with the genesis of unintended high-pitched little moans disguised as inconsistent respiration, which announce the inception of a really first-rate holy orgasm. Somehow it is unsurprising that Doctor Abby Griffin fights to remain in control of herself, even during sex. But suddenly everything shifts. It all accelerates. Her moans multiply exponentially. The sequential delineating zigzag motion of her hips lose any pretext of finesse. The expected rapturous sensation of her inner muscles spasming around him magnifies along with a general stiffening of her whole body, especially her legs. She unconsciously tightens her quadriceps and calves, stretching them almost to the skill of a contortionist, equating erotically the process of cumming with dying.

  
But she doesn't have the energy to perform such a deceit, nor does she think he would ever buy it. And he doesn't deserve that kind of an insult, as annoyed as she’s been the past post-Praimfaya days with him and his decision to turn a blind eye on her request to be on the other side of that damned bunker door. Either way, she’s run out of time. He is already staring down at her, searching for answers.

  
“Abby...”

  
She doesn't permit him to go on as she raises her legs and wraps them tightly around his waist, both stopping his words short and allowing the vertiginous rhythm to contiue. He had already started to slow down his movements as he was beginning to speak; but she wouldn't yield. She tries making him dizzy with pleasure, contracting aggressively her inner walls on him, to produce the perfect blend of persuasion and distraction she needs right now to conjur up a decent way out of this mess.

  
_It had been far too fucking long._

  
He furrows his brow in agony and clenches down his own body desperately trying for all he is worth not to come right then and there. He would never forgive himself if he did while she was clearly in an unbalanced state of mind. But, seeing as though she is stubbornly intent on carrying on, he lets his elbows rest precariously on the mattress for support, giving him the minimum leverage he needs to cup her face delicately in his hands.

  
He wants to convey he will do whatever she asks of him. He will follow her mind’s script dutifully; and if she indeed wants to try and keep it up, he will do whatever she requires of him in this new, unknown sexual context for both of them. If she really wants to stop and finally address everything that is wrecking her and consuming them from the inside, he will simply stop. As maddening as that idea sounds to his own body, most terrible have been the previous tormenting days of silence and incertitude.

  
_He just got her back, dammit_. He couldn't endure losing her. Once again.

  
“Abby, what do you need?”

  
“I...” she finds she can't utter a single word, nor dodge his tenacious eyes. She feels trapped, but not just by him. It seems, belatedly, she has to face her own demons between the sheets. “I... I don't know,” and her voice finally cracks.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first venture in Kabby writing ever and the first fic in so long...
> 
> I'm kind of sorry (not sorry) for that ending, but during the process of writing, the trailer for s5 was released and I couldn't find a way to cross all that emotional path from where we have them to that place they are teasing us they will be. At least for now.
> 
> I'd love to hear your thoughts. Kudos and comments appreciated.


End file.
